


Sleep

by scootsaboot



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Bottom Jack, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Porn, domestic AU, its just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scootsaboot/pseuds/scootsaboot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a short drabble of jack getting what he wants</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this for brewhay. un-beta'd.

Rhys sighs into his pillow, curled up on his side and his cybernetic arm off for the night. Work’s been exhausting all week, and more and more reports just keep finding their way to his desk somehow. He’s tired and a little grumpy, and he whines when he feels fingers slide across the waistband of his shorts.

“Jack,” he huffs,” opening one eye to peer at the other man. The room is dark, the bathroom light the only thing to illuminate Jack’s form. The fingers dip beneath the elastic band and Rhys groans, “ _Jack._ I’m tired.”

Jack tugs the elastic and lets it snap back against Rhys’ skin, making the younger man yelp. Rhys opens his mouth to tell him off, but Jack swallows the noise before he can make it when he presses their lips together.

“Whiney tonight, huh?” he mutters, biting Rhys’ bottom lip before pulling back. Rhys frowns and he wants to tell Jack off, but then large hands are pushing him onto his back and sliding against his sides, rucking his shirt up to get at his skin. “Relax,” Jack says and Rhys sighs and lets the man do what he wants.

He closes his eyes when Jack presses his mouth to his stomach, trailing kisses along the flat expanse of his skin, sucking bruises against his hips. Arousal coils in Rhys’ gut and he looks down at the older man through half lidded eyes. When Jack’s fingers grab at his waistband again, Rhys just lifts his hips to help him slip them off easier.

His cock is barely hard, resting against his thigh. Jack’s shirt is already off, and he haphazardly wiggles out of his own pants and tosses them aside before settling himself between Rhys’ legs. He licks a stripe across his palm and wraps his hand around Rhys. A rush of air leaves Rhys’ lungs and he hums as Jack strokes him slowly.

When he’s about half-hard, Jack lets go and leans over to the bedside table. He drops the container of lube beside Rhys before his hands press incessantly at his thighs, getting to him to spread his legs further.

Rhys gasps in surprise when Jack’s tongue drags along the length of his cock. Jack presses his lips to the head before taking Rhys into his mouth. He looks up at Rhys, his expression dark and Rhys swallows, unable to look away.

Jack bobs his head, cheeks hollowing as he sucks around Rhys’ dick, taking it down to the base, his nose pressed against the soft skin of the younger man’s stomach.

“Jack,” Rhys’ voice is shaky, and when Jack finally pulls off, Rhys’ cock is red and glistening with spit and pre-come. Jack leans back and grabs the lube from where he’d set it earlier; Rhys watches with fascination as he pops the cap and squirts some of the liquid onto his fingers.

Jack smirks at him, light glinting off his teeth as he reaches behind himself and dips his fingers past his entrance. Rhys can’t actually _see_ what he’s doing, but his mouth is dry as he watches the way Jack’s chest heaves as his breathing gets louder.

Jack’s dick is curved against his stomach, but Jack hasn’t so much as touched it.

It isn’t long before Jack’s wiping his fingers on the sheets and Rhys can’t find it in himself to tell him not to. The older man moves forward, knees moving to rest on either side of Rhys’ hips. He’s poised right above Rhys’ cock, one hand keeping him balanced while the other reaches behind him to guide himself down.

Rhys lets out a huff when the blunt head of his cock pushes past Jack’s tight entrance—he makes a choked off sound when the man forces down the rest of the way, taking Rhys’ cock to the hilt.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jack hisses, but he’s grinning with too many teeth and already lifting himself up again until only the head of Rhys’ dick is holding him open. He slides back down quickly, the sound of skin against skin reverberating in the dark room. Rhys’ hand finds its way to Jack’s hip and he grips on tight as Jack rides him.

The bed quietly creaks every time Jack slams down, and his hands slide up grab Rhys’ hair, forcing his head back into the pillow. He growls, low in his throat and leans forward to cover Rhys’ chest with his own, grinding down on Rhys’ dick with every roll of his hips.

Rhys moans when Jack latches onto his neck, sucking and biting at the skin under his tattoo. He digs his fingernails into Jack’s hip, hips moving to meet Jack’s as he thrusts up into him.

“Ohh God,” Rhys whimpers, pulling his knees up and pressing his heels of his feet into the mattress.

Jack chuckles against his neck, “Jack is fine,” and then he slows his movements, hips rolling slow and tortuously, “and if you get off before me, there’s gonna be hell to pay, princess.”

Rhys barely has time to register the other man’s words before Jack leans back and starts up a brutal pace again, fucking himself on Rhys’ dick. Rhys sucks in a breath and moves his hand from Jack’s hips to wrap around his cock instead. His fingers can’t even wrap entirely around it, but he sets to work, alternating between stroking and just letting Jack fuck into his fist.

He can feel himself getting closer to orgasm and he bites his lip, tightening his hand around Jack’s cock and thrusting his hips up, aiming for the other man’s prostate. It seems to work because Jack’s movements stutter and Rhys gets to watch the older man’s mouth fall open as he comes apart. He’s still moving his hips as he comes between them, and Rhys strokes him until every bit of cum of spilled onto his stomach.

When Jack finally stills and shuts his mouth, Rhys pulls his hand away, eying the beads of sweat running down Jack’s temple, and then the cum on his own hand. Rhys brings it closer, pressing his fingers between his lips to suck off the spill, tongue lapping over them carefully. Jack smirks down at him, pushes Rhys’ hand away to kiss him roughly; Rhys groans into his mouth, jerking his hips up.

He feels Jack tighten around him, grinding down again and it’s enough to send him over the edge. Rhys comes hard, gripping the sheets tightly and biting his lip to stifle his moan. Jack makes a pleased sound and pats Rhys’ cheek before climbing off of him.

Rhys breathes heavily and watches as Jack grabs a towel from the bathroom and tosses it at him. It hits him in the face and he makes an indignant sound, “hey!” He hears Jack laugh and he frowns as he wipes away the mess on his chest and stomach. Jack climbs back into bed then and Rhys lets the towel drop to the floor before lying on his back again. Jack’s arm curls around his waist, tugging him closer and Rhys goes willingly, tilting his head so he can press a kiss to Jack’s mouth.

“Go to sleep,” the other man says in his 'business' voice and Rhys grins and shuts his eyes to do just that.


End file.
